


Warmth in a Cold Land

by Cers



Series: Tales from Eiselcross [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 2x118 Coda, Episode: c02e118 Solace Between the Secrets, I love Uraya with all my heart listen-, If there's one thing I love in CR- it's the BFF potential of Essek and Jester, Minor EGTW spoilers, coda fic, pure indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cers/pseuds/Cers
Summary: Uraya is summoned to the office of the new overseer- Shadowhand Essek Thelyss- and is asked to send a message for him.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre & Essek Thelyss
Series: Tales from Eiselcross [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133714
Comments: 9
Kudos: 122





	Warmth in a Cold Land

Uraya liked his position at Vurmas. This was his fourth posting and, so far, the smoothest. 

It was a free life, inasmuch as one could be free on a confined vessel such as this. Most of his duergar brethren back home didn’t understand his love for it, preferring their dark tunnels and darker schemes. He didn’t mind their callous whispers and crude jeers. He liked his work on Vurmas, and it was a simple job.

Usually. 

This morning he had been summoned to the office of their new overseer- the young Shadowhand, recently installed. 

He hadn’t spoken much with the man. They had met briefly when Thelyss boarded at their Xhorhassian docks of Jigow, and Uraya was quite taken with him. The Shadowhand was courteous, to the point, attentive and serious- all that one would want in a director really. The introductions were brief but informative, and Uraya felt that this fourth expedition was going to be a good one. 

Over the next twenty-five days at sea, they had met a grand total of three times. Each time was for updates, reports, and even more surprisingly- opinions. The young man had holed up in his little office- no doubt less lavish than he was used to but he didn’t complain - for most of the trip, rarely venturing out except to observe crew and survey the state of the ship. For what reason Thelyss was assigned to the _Soulsailor_ , Uraya didn’t know, but he liked him so far. 

Anchoring on the eastern coast of Foren had been in their mission reports, something Uraya was excited to see. Normally they would circumvent the large island altogether, but this time round they were settling in a niche bay outside of the Aeorian crash sight. It made a nice change. For all the cold aggravates the stump that is Uraya’s left knee, he cannot deny or give up the beauty of an arctic sunrise.

This time he would make sure to lean on the frozen railings of his little balcony to watch the dawns, finally appreciating his room facing eastwards in this biting north. 

So far their last two-and-a-half-weeks stationed here had been uneventful. Hell, even the journey up had been moderate compared to previous expeditions. A minor storm or two here and there, some particularly difficult ice floes to navigate, but nothing the _Soulsailor_ wasn’t built for. 

In that time he’d only met with the Shadowhand twice- once a week, just had been on the way up - and it was to provide a general update on crew morale and the health reports of the folks readying for on-land expeditions. The young Thelyss has invited him in, sat him by the crackling fireplace, and offered over-stewed tea and plain biscuits. It was a nice gesture that Uruya appreciated, and they built a brief rapport in the short meeting. Tea (even oversteeped) and biscuits- plain or not- were valued commodities on any Vurmas ship. 

It was thoughts such as these that accompanied him back up to the towering office of Essek Thelyss, summoned outside of his usual scheduled time slot, and starting to worry a little at the interruption to routine. 

By the time Uraya had stomped his way up the wooden stairs- his peg leg making that satisfying _clump clump_ noise on each alternate step- and knocked on the door, he was a little knotted ball of concern, his wrinkles deepening. His anxiety is well-placed as Essek opens the door before Uraya's hand leaves the wood and welcomes him inside calmly. Too calmly. 

As before, Uraya is welcomed to sit, offered refreshments, and settled in. So far, so normal.

What follows is a solid two minutes and four seconds of silence. 

Essek sips at his cup from his chair, clanging the cup down on the saucer after each intake. To an outsider, he’d probably look pissed off, or rude, given how severe his expression was. Uraya, however, was nearly two hundred and forty and able to discern the maelstrom of nerves bubbling beneath this professional visage.   
  
"Was there anyth-"

“I’d like you to send a message to someone. Please,” he all but blurts out. Uraya raises two bushy eyebrows high. He was almost certain that something as simple as Sending a message was well within the Shadowhand’s repertoire, but chooses not to comment in the moment. 

“I can certainly do that. Who is it to, sir?” 

The cup stills halfway to pursed lips. The bottom one looks a little bruised- as though teeth had been worrying at it. Curious. 

“A- … a friend.” 

Uraya didn’t think they could, but his brows rise even higher. There was something equally sacred and fearful in the way the word 'friend' was uttered. Uraya had sent _private_ messages before for folk- he didn't bat an eyelid at the contents and usually earned a pretty coin for his discretion. He was just a little surprised that the Shadowhand was utlising that. He gave off the impression of absolute preferential solitude. But oh well, a coin is a coin. 

“All right, that we can do. Who is the friend?”

The cup settles on the saucer with a suppressed sigh. Then the saucer is set upon the table betwixt the chairs. A hand wearily comes up to rub at tired eyes. A depreciating laugh huffs from the Shadowhand. 

“Isn’t that the question?” he mumbles. The hand comes away from his face and steeples with its partner. “I want to say - but no. I think he’s not a good option right now. So instead-” he nods to himself. “Yes, I think Jester would be the best recipient.”

“‘Jester’, sir?” 

“Tell me, Uraya, have you heard of the Heroes of the Dynasty?”

Even during his long forays to Eiselcross and back he had, indeed, heard of them. 

“Aye, ah have…?” 

“I have received notice that they are on the island, and so would like to check in with them. They are projected to be travelling here and I would like a status update.”

Uraya would eat his unused left boot before he believed that this was about a simple expedition update. However he could also read the nerves in the man and decided to take pity. Perhaps this meant a little more to the Shadowhand than typical scandalous messages he'd been employed for. Maybe he'd charge a little less for this one. He liked the young man after all.

So, donning an air of professional import, Uraya asks for the friend’s description. 

“As you well know, any message going out to an unknown individual to the sender will be more likely to reach the recipient the more I know about them,” he reads off as though it were a memorised script. It's usually at times like this Uraya is presented with a small portrait or sketch of the individual- usually crinkled with love or dirtied with smudges of fingerprints from the amount of times touched. But not this time. Once more, Essek surprises him. 

It’s a small change, but the Shadowhand- Essek - loses a lot of tension in his shoulders. 

“Of course-”

What starts out as an equally professional response very swiftly devolves into something far more personal. At first Essek builds a vivid picture in Uraya’s mind- a young woman, of tiefling heritage. Blue-skinned, like the deep icy ocean they traversed. She has a coastal accent- of Nicodranas dialect, he’s informed. Uraya is well travelled and knows it decently. Round face, darker blue hair in a bob style - all simple details that aid in sending to a stranger.

But then there’s more. Soon there’s talk of personality- a bubbly, aggressively charming type. One it’s difficult to say no to. Friendly to the point of obstinance, but it wears one down over time. Incredibly difficult not to find likeable, and very fierce in her affection. She also has a keen sweet tooth, with a notable penchant for pastries and cupcakes. 

Uraya is no longer taking mental notes. He is watching a small, kind smile spread across Essek’s face. It is full of fondness, and tenderness. There’s a hint of something more- a sadness, some… disappointment perhaps? But not at her. From him. He says nothing as Essek continues, caught in his own daze describing someone dear to him. 

Uraya twinged with a little guilt. This wasn't a simple lover's message- he had been correct in his previous assumption about the man's preferred solitude. This Jester, these people, were the exception. It was nice to know that the young man wasn’t truly without friends. 

As he’s watching so closely, he spots the exact moment that the Shadowhand remembers his whereabouts- and his company. In a moment the professional mask snaps back on and Essek clears his throat, embarrassed to be caught. 

“She means a great deal to you?”

To his surprise, Essek does not deflect the question or berate him for prying. Good. 

“She does. They… they all do. They are a strange, curious bunch to say the least.” Essek allows the facade to fade a little, letting through a tired smile. “I think you will like them.”

“I’m sure I will,” he responds. “This...Jester. She is….something more?” He knows he’s pushing it- 

“No. I have no such interests. She is just...very...well. _Jester._ ” As if that explained all. 

Not wishing to shatter this fragile moment of what he thinks to be rare vulnerability for the Shadowhand, Uraya enquires to the contents of the message. Already accepting that this will not be a paid side-job, he fishes out his pocket book and stubbed pencil, thumbing through to a fresh page and readies to take notes-

Only the dictation doesn’t come. Uraya lifts his gaze to find Essek floundering. Right. Like that then. Not so good with the ‘friend’ thing yet. Poor lad. 

“How about this-”

The next thirty-eight minutes (according to the timepiece above the fire) is taken up by Shadowhand Essek Thelyss fretting over a limit of twenty-five or so words. Partway through Uraya begins to rethink his position on not charging for this one. 

Multiple words are struck through, Essek’s desk is now bereft of several leaves of parchment as the man himself attempts to transcribe aloud an acceptable sounding message. In Uraya’s opinion, the second draft they came up with was fine after some tweaking, but he lets the man fret and fumble for a time. This is important to him, and Uraya is enjoying the insulation of the office, if he’s honest. The constant flow of biscuits and tea is helping too. 

Though come to the half-hour mark he does start to take pity when the Shadowhand begins to doubt his own intentions. 

Simple things- is ‘Shadowhand’ too formal? Is this necessary? Is he being too forward? Will they find his enquiry suspicious? Is offering aid implying they cannot cope? What if-

Essek voices a lot of these aloud- muttered but aloud- and Uraya was a little confused as to why the Shadowhand would worry over such trivial things if he were friends with these Heroes. There were some large, unfilled blanks in this story but Uraya didn’t make it this far in life by not knowing when to stop prying. Dropping any semblance of formality, Uraya decides it's time to put an end to this. 

“Essek this is not going to help at all, sit down and let me send this. You will feel relieved hearing back from them- all right?” he rolls the words and makes the younger man hear him. Essek is on the verge of looking to disagree- but a firm look from Uraya of ‘trust me’ seems to quell him. 

“Very well. Please, if you would-” he waves a hand and all but collapses in the chair. Uraya wonders if all them fancy Den manners and social niceties are worth it if they don’t even allow one to _relax_. 

“All right then.” He reads once more over the simple message jotted down in his book at the start of all this. He works his jaw, clears his throat, and draws the sigil in the air like it was the most natural thing in the world. He envisions the young woman, full of life and joy. He pictures her and speaks aloud in the Common tongue. 

“Associate of Essek, Uraya here. Sending word to keep Essek updated of your estimated arrival." He keeps eye contact with Essek, nodding as he speaks that this is good. "Should you need emergency aid- reach out. Be careful," he finishes, satisfied with his work. Essek however, looks even more tense than when Uraya first arrived. 

Now, Uraya has sent a lot of Messages and Sendings in his time. He’s contacted curious individuals- some high up in society, others low and shady. Most are professional contact in his line of work nowadays, and as such he has grown accustomed to a certain level of bleak short reports barked back. He would repeat these verbatim to his superior, forget what he’d heard, and return to his duties. Or at least, that is how it has been for the last few years. 

What he gets for his complacency - despite all of Essek’s warnings - is a brazen, _enthusiastic_ response of:  
  
“We're around two days away, I think! But I'm not totally sure. Please tell him that we like him a whole lot and miss him! Do do do do do-!”

Uraya has no mirror to see his current expression, but the fact that it made the Shadowhand smile widely was enough to confirm that he had indeed reached to correct recipient. Coughing and righting himself in his chair -for her voice had been so clear that she may have well been right next to him and as such had jerked in an attempt to distance himself from a figure not actually there- Uraya dutifully repeats, _word for word_ , her response. 

The smile widens to a full-on genuine expression of fondness, but Uraya’s temporary audio discomfort is made all the worthwhile when he faithfully sing-songs the last notes of Jester Lavorre’s message. 

Teeth of full display, head tilted back, the Shadowhand of the Kryn Dynasty gives an almighty laugh and it’s warmer to Uraya than the fire crackling before him.  
  
Yes, Uraya likes his position in Vurmas. 

**Author's Note:**

> Looking to getting back into the swing of writing again after a wild December and this little ditty hasn't left my mind since I met Uraya, Associate of Essek. In unrelated news I will now be referring to the Shadowhand as 'Essek, Associate of Uraya' and will update every single mention of Essek's name to say that in all my fics. 
> 
> I'm kidding. 
> 
> Probably. 
> 
> But I hope we meet him (them?) soon in-game, I loved them for the brief thirty seconds I had them. Essek deserves another FRIEND and I want it to be URAYA, ASSOCIATE OF ESSEK.
> 
> Disclaimer: I've not a scooby doo what race/gender Uraya is. I've no clue where Xhorhassian docks actually are, and I do not know if they're even on a Vurmas ship but why not. Also I know Jester's message is more than 25 words but for the sake of the above, I'm ignoring that >:)
> 
> Happy New Year and I hope 2021 is a lot nicer to us than 2020!


End file.
